La petite Mort
by SeverusSPrince
Summary: this is a cheeky little teaser for a fanfiction I m playing with... , it is also my first story here, so be gentle.... oh yeah... Snape.. not mine, Rowlings... except for late at night when he sneaks out to play with me....


_authors note: due to questions from a few, I would just like to add that "la petite mort", means " little death" and is what the french call an orgasm, preferably a mind blowing one...so maybe now, the whole kill and die things make a little more sense. do enjoy and feel free to criticize, ta!_

La Petite Mort

He grabs me and pulls me to him with such force, I can feel bruises forming where his fingers dig into my arms. My breath hitches. He sees it. He claims my mouth with the same force. Biting, licking, sucking. He's hungry, and there is nothing stopping him from devouring me.

This is certainly not my first time.

I am no virgin, yet I find my well-experienced and usually, knowing hands shake, and I fumble as I try to open his buttons. I'm scared, and he knows it. Frightened of the fire that burns under his exoskeleton of clothes. I give up my feeble attempt to undress him, and let him bare my skin instead. He dosent fumble like I do, he has nothing to fear. I shiver as I stand naked before him. The sweat on my body betrays me and tells him that it is not from cold. Just raw fear. Like an animal he smells it, and it adds more fuel to the rage of passion. I fear that he will burn me, and leave me scarred and marked.

Scars and marks. I could write volumes about that. Look beyond the scars on our skin. Beyond the bruises already red on my arms. Look at my bruised and dented heart, scarred from being shattered and not put back together properly. Malformed and never fully healed. Then look at his thread-bare soul. Ripped, torn at the edges. A tell tale sign of many evil deeds.

It should have made it easy, that neither of us is a snowy-white canvas. Yet as he growls and bite into my neck, my heart is fluttering, and my body goes rigid with terror. He laughs at this before continuing to bite and lick his way to my breasts. He toys with me. Like a predator with it's prey, before the impending, merciless kill.Or perhaps there is mercy that drives the predator to end it.

He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back. I can hear a slight crack in my neck. The pain as he still pulls on my hair feel like a thousand needles being shot into my scalp at once. « mine », he growls, and slaps my butt cheek. Not playfully, but hard and angry. Another red mark appears on my skin. Another of his hand prints. Then he moves his free hand to my front and his fingers claim their way into the slit between my legs.

Again my body gives me away, betrays me. His eyes fill with thirst as he feels just how wet I already am. I'm dripping onto his hand. He pushes two fingers inside me, and the sensation makes my body quiver again. Involuntarily I lean into him as my legs threaten to buckle.

He pulls me off him slightly. So he can look me in the eyes. His gaze is too much for me. Too intense, it burrows too deep, forcing me to reveal desires I have always kept hidden.

« look at me, dont you dare look away », he snarls and all my defenses are down. It's all his. Every thought, every memory, every filthy little fantasy.

All of it. His.

With a wicked smile he pulls his fingers to him and smells them, licks them. He traces my lips with them, making sure I can taste myself on them.  
« stop it! », I want to say, « stop this. Stop playing with me like this. I cant take it anymore. Just kill me ». My breath hitches again. « please... », is all I can utter.  
I dont even know what I am begging for. At this point, he knows what I want better than I do.

He finally lets go of my hair, and pushes me down on the bed I had forgotten was there.  
He holds my gaze as he stands before me and undresses, and he demands that I hold his.  
There is anger in his eyes, and disdain.  
Who is more pathetic? The monster, or the woman who wants him?

I know he hates me for doing this, for forcing him out of the miserable peace he has been in for so long. He hates me for lying on his bed, wanting him, begging him to kill me. He tries to scare me, I know he wants to see me run from him in terror. Because if I do, then nothing has to change.  
And he does indeed scare me. He terrifies me as he hovers over me. My hands are still shaking, and if I werent so afraid of what he might do if I didnt look into his eyes,  
I'd close mine.

But I dont move, I dont run away. I lie there and wait for him to kill me.

Cruel and merciless as only he can be, he postpones it. He makes his way up my leg slowly. Again, biting and licking me. Tasting every inch of my flesh.

A inaudible moan escapes me as his tongue traces the length of my inner thigh.I am so wet, I am soaking the sheets underneath me, and he laps me up.  
He drinks me, trying to fulfill an insatiable craving. The world around me is fading away. I cant feel the wetness of the sheets underneath me anymore.

I cant feel the grease of his hair against my palms. I cant feel my teeth biting down on my lips, trying to stifle me. I can feel his tongue, slick with my own juice, exploring every fold. I feel his lips kissing me. He takes me into his mouth and tastes me fully.

He is greedy. Like a child wanting to have every last lick of his ice-cream cone before the summer heat melts it. Only his heat has already melted me. I am sure I scream for him to stop torturing me and kill me. Finish me. But I just scream, incoherent, meaningless words from a language I dont recognize. Somehow I manage to sit up, and now I am pulling on his hair, pulling him up to my lips.

« kill me », I try to say, but his lips are closed on mine and I am silenced.

He pushes me back down and I drag him with me, refusing to let go of him. The full weight of his milky-white body on top of me.  
His near perfect, heavy, rock-hard cock presses against my thigh. It is so warm, its burning my skin. Pre-come drizzling down on me.

I push him off, gasping for air. He had tortured me long enough. I shift so he falls between my legs, and close one hand around his shaft. I can feel how its throbbing and begging, for me. He has to give up. My beckon and the call of his cock, overpowers him. He has to give in.

Without warning, without missing a beat, he impales me. Giving me his entire length in one fast, crude motion. So hard that he hits bottom and pain rips through my body.

I hear my wails echoed by the stonewalls and ceiling of the castle. He rams me with fury. Again I feel how angry he is that I invaded his life, his domain. He feels I should have left him alone, and never ventured down into the monsters den. Never coaxed him out of his dungeon and into my touch. Even as we are merged as one, he wonders why I am here.

Why I play with dragon fire. He dosent understand that dragon fire is what it takes to melt the ice in my veins.

After torturing me for as long as he has, it dosent take long before I start to die.

I wrap my legs around him and dig my nails into his shoulders. He cries out in pain and lust, but I cant hear him. I cant hear anything. I cant see anything, except his black eyes, still digging into my soul to find why I chose him.

I can only feel how he is killing me, finally, and it feels so good. It feel so good that I forget everything. I forget who I am. I forget my name.

I am dying and all I know is who he is.

« Severus. Severus. Severus!», I scream as I die, again and again.


End file.
